


Stuck on You

by StarlitVesper



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Dib wants to be a paranormal investigator, Dramedy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Membrane is disappointed in Dib, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Other, Romantic Comedy, Summer Romance, ZaDr, but who's checking?, flimsy plot devices, gaz is pretty down to earth, gecko zim au, hey did you know I can write things that don't have explicit scenes??, high school zim and dib, i'm pulling out all the tropes, professor membrane still sucks tho, shenanigans abound, teenaged zim and dib, yeah me neither, you can have a little ZaGF at the end as a treat, zim and dib in high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23796334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlitVesper/pseuds/StarlitVesper
Summary: Gecko Zim AUWhat could be worse than getting stuck to your boyfriend because you've forgotten how to work your sticky gecko fingers? How about getting stuck to your boyfriend because you've forgotten how to work your sticky gecko fingers on the same day as his family's annual mandatory group dinner?Hey, it could be worse. At least this time the venue isn't Bloaty's.(This is a fluffy little found-family one-shot where Zim is more gecko than bug, for reasons.)
Relationships: Dib & Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 121





	Stuck on You

_ Why, why did they send her over anyone else?  
How should I react? These things happen to other people  
They don't happen at all _

[ \- They Might Be Giants, _She's an Angel_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zZ4J-jvDAuQ)

* * *

“If you’re not wearing the rest of your stupid getup anymore, why won’t you ditch the gloves?”

A slightly annoyed Zim looked up from where his head was in Dib’s lap, then stuffed most of his cotton candy in his face at once. Summer was in full swing, and that meant the local carnival was as well. Where else were you supposed to bring your boyfriend for a tacky one-month anniversary?

“It wasn’t  _ stupid _ , Dib. I just decided I would blend in better if I wore what you humans consider ‘popular fashion’,” Zim said dismissively.

Dib eyed Zim’s leggings and crop top, noting how they contrasted against his own ripped black jeans and band tee. A bead of melted ice cream made its way down his cone and he licked it off before it could reach his fingers.

“Yeah, well, you look like a prep. And leggings aren’t pants.”

Zim crossed his legs. “That’s what fanny packs are for. You’re just jealous of how good my legs look in these.”

“You are _not_ bringing fanny packs back. And why would I be jealous of  _ your legs _ ??” Dib asked as he took a bite from his ice cream cone. 

Zim didn’t have a good answer, so he bumped the bottom of Dib’s cone up into his face.

“Ack!! What the hell, Zim??”

Dib’s nose and mouth were completely covered in mint chocolate, and Zim stifled a giggle. Dib looked away and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, but not before Zim caught him grinning despite himself.

“You’re a jerk …” Dib muttered. “Back to my point, though. If you’d just ditch the gloves, you could quit wearing long sleeves in 85-degree heat.”

Zim shot him a long-suffering look. “You really want to know why I don’t take them off?”

Dib shoved the rest of his ice cream cone into his mouth. “Well, yeah … that’s kinda why I asked,” he said through a mouthful of waffle cone and melted ice cream 

Zim sat up. “Alright. Let’s go back to your house and I’ll show you.”

“Why not here?”

Zim looked around nervously. “There’s too many people here.”

Dib got to his feet. “Oh, like they’ve  _ ever  _ noticed  _ any  _ of the weird shit you do before.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were back in the dark, air-conditioned recesses of Dib’s room. Dib cleared off a spot on the floor, tossing an armful of clothes in the hamper.

“Okay. Nobody else is home. We have the house to ourselves. Tell me your dark and terrible secrets,” he said, sitting cross-legged in front of Zim.

“Alright. But you can’t freak out about it,” Zim said nervously.

“I promise. Now just show me already!!”

Zim delicately grabbed the middle finger of his left-hand glove and tugged it off, revealing fingers that looked almost disappointingly normal. At least, until he held his hand out, palm up.

“Oh my god … they're like gecko feet!!” Dib exclaimed with unbridled joy. “Why have you been hiding those?? Can you crawl up walls?? Holy shit this is so cool!!”

“Slow your roll, Dib—”

Zim held up his hand and Dib abruptly grabbed it and intertwined their fingers, a huge grin on his face. 

“This feels so amazing!! Okay you’re going to take those off more often and—”

Dib tried to pull his hand back, but Zim didn’t let go. Dib gave him an odd look.

“You can … um … let go now, Zim …”

Zim’s eyes were wide. “That’s what I was just about to tell you … I can’t. I’ve been wearing these for so long … I don’t have the muscle memory for it anymore.”

Dib just stared at him before whispering, “Please say ‘ _ psych _ ’...”

“I’m dead fucking serious.” Zim shook their hands vigorously to illustrate the point.

Dib put his other hand on top of Zim’s to make him stop. “Okay! Okay. I get it.” He stood up and started to pace, but was abruptly pulled to a stop. “Fuck … what are we going to do??”

The sound of a door closing downstairs made them both freeze. Dib mumbled a few choice, colorful swears as footfalls made their way up the stairs, stopping outside his door.

“Hey Dib!!” came Gaz’s voice from outside his door. He wasn’t sure if he should feel more relieved that it wasn’t his dad. He dragged Zim to the door and opened it a couple inches.

“What?” he asked, trying to obscure as much of his room as possible.

“What are you—?” Her eyes suddenly went wide and she peered around the door. “Oh my god, is that Zim in there with you?”

“I … yeah. We’ve been dating for like a month,” Dib said defensively. “I didn’t think that was news.” Though he had to admit, he’d tried to keep it mostly under wraps. 

“I already knew that,” she said dismissively. “I’m just shocked you’d bring him over for the yearly family dinner.”

Dib’s mouth went dry. “... Th-the whu?”

Gaz rolled her eyes. “Nice. You forgot again. Someday I’ll learn to have less faith in you. Look, if you  _ don’t _ want to introduce dad to your boyfriend, aka the alien you’ve been trying to _destroy_ for the past four years—”

“More like three?” Zim chimed in, his face appearing just below Dib’s in the doorway. “We’ve had a truce for a while now—”

“Zim!” Dib hissed.

“Yeah, you two work  _ so well  _ together,” Gaz said flatly. “As I was saying … Dad’s gonna be here in like fifteen minutes. So either push Zim out a window or commit to telling dad about your boyfriend.”

“... I can’t get rid of him,” Dib squeaked out.

Gaz held up her hands. “I’m not going to try to come between you two. If it’s that important—”

Dib pulled the door open all the way and held Zim’s hand up, shaking it. “No, I mean I  _ literally  _ can’t get rid of him!”

“Ow, Dib!” Zim yelped, smacking his arm. “Ow ow ow!! Quit that!!” He forced their arms back down, glaring. “And  _ quit panicking _ . We’ll just have to cut both our hands off.”

“ _ Excuse me?? _ ” Dib said, holding his arm a little closer.

“You can wear long sleeves until it grows back. You’ll be fine,” Zim said, with the air of someone suggesting much less invasive methods than amputation.

“Human body parts don’t just  _ grow back,  _ Zim!!” Dib exclaimed, looking horrified.

Zim looked surprised. “They don’t?? Huh … well, I guess that  _ does  _ explain what was so special about Deadpool …”

“How did you get through  _ all of Deadpool  _ without realizing nobody else regenerated body parts?” Gaz asked with a raised eyebrow.

Zim shrugged. 

“Zim? Can we focus?” Dib asked, exasperated.

“Ugh, okay, fine. We’ll cut mine off,” Zim replied, as if it were any less gruesome a suggestion.

“Dead geckos still stick to things!! I’ll be hauling around your disembodied hand until it disintegrates!!”

Zim stuck his tongue out. “Yuck, you don’t have to make it sound so  _ romantic,  _ Dib.”

“You seriously can’t just let go??” Gaz asked, grabbing their wrists and pulling.

“Ouch!! No, we can’t,” Dib snapped, swatting her hand away. “Zim can’t remember how to make his stupid little gecko fingers loosen up.”

“You said they were cool!” Zim whined, sounding hurt.

“They were cool  _ before _ they got us into this situation.”

“Both of you, shut up a second! Christ …” Gaz muttered, fingers on her temples. “Zim, I’m not letting you maim my brother until  _ after  _ dinner. Dib, you’re just gonna have to suck it up and introduce Zim to dad.”

“... I  _ really  _ don’t want to have to do that …”

“ _ Why?? _ ” Zim and Gaz asked simultaneously, making Dib shrink back under their perplexed gazes.

“I knew it … you’re embarrassed of me!” Zim moaned. “That’s why you waited until the last day of school to ask me out!”

“ _ No, it’s not _ ,” Dib said defensively. “It’s because I didn’t want to look at your  _ stupid face _ if you said no!”

“My  _ stupid face  _ is starting to  _ wish  _ it had said no!” Zim said, fist at his side.

“Knock it off. Neither of you are being productive,” Gaz said, pushing both of them back from each other. “Have you tried using gravity to separate yet?”

“What, like dangling Zim out a window?” Dib asked.

“Why me??” Zim asked, offended. “You weigh more than I do!”

“Yeah, but you’re aren’t going to die if you fall two stories,” Dib pointed out.

Gaz snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! Dad has that forklift in the garage. We’ll just lift one of you until you pull apart.”

Zim raised an eyebrow at Dib, who shrugged. It seemed as good a option as any.

They scurried to the garage, not wanting to waste any time. It wouldn’t be good for any of them if Professor Membrane opened the garage to find Zim dangling Dib from the forklift, with Gaz at the controls.

“Okay. Zim, lie on your stomach on the pallet. Dib’s heavier so hopefully we won’t even need anyone’s feet to leave the ground,” Gaz said while working out the forklift controls.

“Why won’t you just take me to dinner with you, Dib?” Zim asked, looking like a kicked puppy as the forklift whirred to life.

“Because you  _ really _ don’t want to be stuck with my dad for any length of time. Trust me,” Dib replied, wincing as Zim was lifted high enough for their hands to start pulling. “Go slow, Gaz! My toes are almost off the ground!!”

“Quit squeezing my hand, Dib!” Zim groused. “That’s the opposite of what we want.”

“This was a stupid idea … geckos can support twenty times their own weight before the … _ow_!! … van der Waals forces between them and a surface actually fail, you know,” Dib babbled as they inched slowly upwards.

“ _ Why _ do you know so many facts about geckos??”

A sudden  _ pop!! _ and an ear-splitting scream from Zim prompted Gaz to quickly lower them back down.

“My arm’s broken!!” Zim yelled, hand on his shoulder as Gaz sprinted around to the front. 

“Fuck, sit up,” Dib said, looking him over. “It’s probably not broken. I bet it’s just dislocated.”

“Let me see,” Gaz said, gently pulling down the collar of Zim’s shirt to get a better look. “Can you move it?”

“No …” Zim whimpered.

“Calm down. You’ll be fine. Just look straight at Dib for a moment,” she said, lining up to shove it back into place.

“Why? What's he going to—  _ OW _ !!!”

Dib grimaced as he felt Zim’s shoulder pop back into place through their clasped hands.

Zim shot Gaz a wounded look.

“Sorry, dude; necessary act of betrayal. You can’t put a dislocated joint back in place if someone is fighting you,” she said with a shrug.

“Fuck … that was a total bust,” Dib said, reaching over to massage Zim’s aching shoulder. “I don’t have any other ideas that won’t lead to bodily injury.”

“Heat?” Gaz suggested.

“I’m not letting you barbecue either Zim  _ or  _ me, thanks,” Dib replied testily.

“I meant put it under hot water, dummy,” Gaz said.

Dib sighed. “Alright, at least no one can say we didn’t try …”

They marched back inside and upstairs to the bathroom, Gaz mostly tagging along so as not to miss any of the ensuing spectacle. Dib sat on the edge of the tub and turned on the water as hot as it would go, putting their hands under the water while it was still cool so they could acclimate.

"There's no way this is going to work," Zim muttered. "All any of this is doing is making me tense."

"Yeah, well, you're gonna be a lot more tense if you have to tag along to dinner," Dib said.

"Millions of people survive dinner every day, Dib. I don't see what makes yours so special ..."

“Okay, start pulling,” Dib said as the water warmed up. It was rapidly turning from tepid to uncomfortably hot.

“You’re going to boil me alive,” Zim said through gritted teeth.

Despite the heat and their frantic attempts to pull free, nothing had changed at all. The water rapidly went from hot to searing, so they mutually bailed.

“So far you’ve dislocated my shoulder and boiled my hand … how is this better than just lopping it off??” Zim asked irritably. 

Dib was about to reply, but the garage door cut him off.

“Fuck … outta time …” Dib moaned, head in his (and one of Zim’s) hands. “Are you  _ sure _ I can’t back out of this??” he asked Gaz, eyes pleading.

“You know dad won’t do this for another whole year if you don’t come,” Gaz said with a sour expression. 

“Okay, fine,” Dib sighed.

“I’ll go convince dad to let you bring Zim along,” Gaz said as she hopped off her perch on the counter. “And I’d better see you two downstairs in five minutes, or I’m releasing all the photos I have of Zim’s base.”

“ _What_??” Zim chirped, looking panicked.

“It better not be fucking Bloaty’s  _ again  _ this year!” Dib called after her.

She poked her head back around the door. “No, I suggested that new Asian fusion place, since I know you’ve  _ actually _ wanted to go there.” She looked down at the floor. “You know … so you’d maybe stop being such a sullen fucking sad sack at these dinners for once.”

She disappeared back down the hall before Dib could even reply. Usually, the less happy Dib was, the more Gaz turned up the cheer to suck up to their dad. So what the hell had  _ that  _ just been?

“We should get my other glove from your room,” Zim pointed out. “In case we actually figure out how to get free. I don’t want to end up with my hand stuck to a restaurant booth immediately afterwards.”

They trudged back to Dib’s bedroom and located the missing glove, which Zim promptly stashed in Dib’s hoodie pocket. Dib gave him an odd look.

“I don’t have pockets, Dib,” Zim explained, holding his arms out so that Dib could see the dearth of pockets for himself. 

“This is why leggings aren’t pants,” Dib said, reaching out to straighten Zim’s wig, which had gradually shifted over the course of the ensuing chaos. It was a new one, with longer hair and a touch more side coverage, that Dib thought made Zim look like a K-Pop idol. He righted the wig and brushed the bangs out of Zim’s face, and Zim gave him a gloomy look before turning away.

“You’re really ashamed of me, huh?” Zim said softly.

“That’s …  _ not _ why I don’t want to tell him.”

Zim turned and shot him a pained look. “Okay.  _ Why _ , then?”

“Because … because I don’t want to deal with the shit he’s gonna give me about thinking you’re an alien, alright?” Dib said, sullen. “He’s going to make a huge deal out of me being wrong, and use that to discount everything else I say. I’m so sick of him seeing me as a weirdo and a failure. Last time I was in his office, you know what I found?”

Zim cocked his head quizzically. 

“I found the paperwork he had drawn up to transfer over the inheritance of Membrane Labs from me to Gaz.”

“Did you even want it?” Zim asked. He'd been under the impression that taking over the family business was something that Dib had actively been avoiding for a number of years.

“No …” Dib muttered. “It’s just embarrassing, you know? He has absolutely no faith in me.”

Zim squeezed his hand. “Well,  _ I _ have faith in you.” He crouched down and dug something out of a pile of Dib’s clothes. “I’m just going to lean into this all the way,” he said, pulling out one of Dib’s beanies that had a little alien face on the band. “And if he tries to start shit, he’ll have to go through Zim.”

Dib couldn’t help but smile. “You’re gonna defeat my dad with the power of irony?”

Zim shrugged. “It’s worth a try, right?”

Dib leaned in and gave him a gentle, albeit awkward kiss on the lips. “You’re a good boyfriend.”

“You’re not awful, yourself,” Zim replied with a blush. He stood up and gave Dib’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Alright, let's get this over with.”

They headed downstairs and followed the sound of conversation into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway when Gaz and Professor Membrane turned towards them.

“Hey, dad,” Dib said, feeling like he couldn’t get any more awkward. “Um … you’ve met Zim before, but I wanna reintroduce him to you as … as my boyfriend …” he trailed off, mumbling.

Luckily, it seemed that Gaz had already done most of the explaining because his father seemed utterly unfazed. 

“Nice to see you again, Zim,” Membrane said pleasantly. “And under so much better circumstances. I think the last time I saw you was in peer mediation, after Dib tried to steal your backpack.”

Dib blanched. The time he’d stolen Zim’s PAK and had nearly gotten both of them killed was _not_ exactly one of his fondest memories. 

“That guidance counselor must be a miracle worker,” Membrane said, just audibly enough for Dib to catch it. Dib watched his father’s gaze drift down to their hands.

“Uh, Zim’s kinda got an anxiety disorder,” Dib explained, before he had a chance to really listen to what was tumbling from his mouth, “so I’ve been helping him manage it. But the downside is that now he has to hold my hand around new people or else he’ll have a panic attack.”

Zim gripped his hand harder and Dib tried not to wince. He had a feeling Zim was going to have some choice things to say about  _ that  _ when they were finally alone. 

“Oh, that’s unfortunate, Zim,” Membrane said with a pitying look. “It wasn’t from the bullying, was it?”

Dib watched Gaz, who had just knocked back most of a can of soda, very nearly do a spit take.

“No, it wasn’t because of Dib!” Zim said quickly. “It was the other children. Because of my skin condition. You know how children are,” Zim said with an awkward laugh.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. That school seems to have quite the bullying problem. To go after you for something you can’t even control … that’s shameful.”

Dib bit his tongue so hard he almost tasted blood. Although his dad had never specifically said it, there had always been the unspoken implication that the bullying Dib faced was somehow _his_ fault. That maybe if Dib could just be  _ normal,  _ the bullying would stop and he’d finally fit in. It was that implication that pushed Dib to other himself further in an act of rebellion against the social norms that dictated that only  _ normal  _ people deserved respect. 

“You know …” Membrane looked suddenly thoughtful in a way that sent a quiver of fear right through Zim’s squeedlyspooch. “If you give me a day to run a DNA test, sequence some genomes, I could probably whip you up a cure.”

Zim felt Dib stiffen beside him.

“Oh! That’s very … um … thank you!!” Zim sputtered, trying not to seem ungrateful but desperately trying to avoid anything that would land him on the senior Membrane's autopsy table. “But it’s not _lethal_ , thankfully, and my parents want me to, uh, _be proud_ of who I am so … you know … they’d never sign off on it. They’re overprotective like that.”

The Professor shurgged. “Fair enough! I wouldn't want to step on any toes.”

Zim breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Speaking of your parents!”

Zim stiffened again. _That_ never heralded anything good.

“I should really meet them some time soon.”

Zim’s mind was racing. What was an acceptable reason for one's parents to be gone? “You know, I’m sure they’d  _ love that, _ ” Zim insisted, “but they’re actually traveling the globe right now. They’re … very accomplished … linguists. Yeah. Just … trotting the globe. Collecting rare … languages …”

“And they left you all alone??” Membrane asked, aghast. 

Dib’s eyes narrowed but a pointed look from Gaz told him that this was  _ not  _ the time to point out that their dad had left them in the care of a robot nanny for most of their childhood, and had been leaving them with no more than microwave meals or pizza money as evidence of his parental "love" for the past five years. 

“It’s fine!!!” Zim insisted. “I’m …”

_ Shit.  _ How old was Dib again?  _ Eleve— _ no, that didn’t sound right.  _ Twenty-one?  _ That didn’t seem right, either …

“... I’m ... very mature for my age,” Zim finished with a resolute nod.

“Well, if it ever gets lonely, you’re more than welcome over here. Though I’d love to at least read your parents' research. I always say that everything you need to know about a person, you can glean from their thesis statement!” Membrane laughed and Zim forced a hollow chuckle. His brain was almost completely fried from lying. No one had asked him this many questions in quick succession just about  _ ever _ . Not even Dib.

“Yes! Sure! You can look them up! They’re … um … John and Jane Doe!”

Membrane suddenly gave him an odd look. 

“It’s … um … Welsh,” Zim offered up lamely, completely misreading the reason for Membrane’s bewildered expression.

The silence that followed made him scared to even breathe.

“Dad, let's get going,” Gaz said suddenly. “I’m starving …”

Zim and Dib shared a relieved glance as the four of them headed for the car. Once they were settled and Gaz had once again stolen their dad’s attention, Dib shot Zim a text.

_ John and Jane Doe?? Really?? _

Zim looked over and caught Dib’s exasperated look. 

_ It was from that crime documentary from last night! I thought those were common names!! _

_ Common names for dead people who haven’t been identified yet! _

_ Well, let’s hope some of them have published research papers. _

Dib rolled his eyes and put the window down a bit. He was surprised when Zim suddenly leaned against his shoulder. He almost nudged him off, not wanting to attract too much attention, but when he glanced down, Zim looked content. More so than he had for the entire preceding month of their relationship. They’d always been a bit at odds, especially while friends. It was as if, no matter how close they got, they both still felt the need to keep a bit of mental and emotional distance. But now there was nowhere to flee to, and Zim seemed to be using it to his advantage. 

Dib rested his head against Zim’s, and felt Zim reach up with his free hand to ruffle his hair. Maybe he could get used to this sort of closeness. They were quiet for the remainder of the drive and, for once, it wasn’t because one of them was giving the other the cold shoulder. 

Their destination was a small restaurant that was thankfully not very crowded on a weekday evening. Zim was still using their predicament to be both overtly cuddly and cute, taking up barely any space in the booth because he was snuggled up so closely next to Dib. 

“So is this a Japanese steak house, or a Mexican restaurant?” Gaz asked as she peered quizzically at the menu.

“I told you … it’s Asain fusion,” Dib replied, doing his best to maintain a neutral expression as Zim attempted to play footsie with him under the table.

“Yeah, but you neglected to mention what it was fused  _ with _ .”

Dib raised an eyebrow. “Dude. The restaurant is called ‘Japan Latino’. Draw your own conclusions.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Gaz insisted as she flipped the menu over. “I’ve always wanted to order sushi and tacos at the same time. I can finally cross that one off the bucket list.”

Once they’d sorted out their orders, Dib had officially run out of small talk, which unfortunately left the ball in his father’s court.

“So, Zim …”

Zim perked up but remained with most of his weight resting on Dib.

“Eh?”

“What are your plans for college?”

“Jeez, Dad,” Dib mumbled. “We just got done being sophomores. It’s a teensy bit early to be asking people about that, don’t you think?”

“It’s never too early to think about higher education, son,” Membrane chided. “Why, I had already decided what I wanted to be by the time I was in kindergarten!”

“And you had grad school sorted out by second grade,” Dib said dryly. “I’m just saying … not everyone else’s parents push them that hard.”

“I’ll probably go into something adjacent to whatever Dib does,” Zim said offhandedly.

Membrane’s expression was suddenly difficult to read. “Dib  _ has  _ told you what he wants to do, right?” he said doubtfully.

Zim shrugged. “Be a paranormal investigator? I don’t see the problem with that. Really, with the right equipment and a solid enough pitch, you can get a network to agree to anything.”

“And then be on the air for what? Maybe 2 years, if you’re lucky?”

Membrane’s tone made Zim think he’d crossed a line, but all that made him do was double down on his commitment.

“Would you say the same thing if he majored in astrobiology?” Zim held Dib’s hand tightly.

Dib shot Zim a sidelong glance and shook his head almost imperceptibly. Zim either didn’t notice, or was too invested at this point to care. 

“NASA Place has been officially defunded because those pursuits have been  _ scientifically proven  _ to not be worth anyone’s time,” Membrane replied, a hint of smugness in his tone.

“Fine. Marine Biology, then,” Zim said, starting to get agitated.

“Sure, there are probably some things we don’t know about the ocean yet. But if you’re looking for some sort of, oh I don’t know,  _ living plesiosaur _ , then I’d say it’s a waste of tuition money.”

Dib felt Zim's entire posture suddenly change.

“I don’t like your implications,” Zim growled.

Dib slammed a fist on the table, startling everyone. 

“Zim. Outside.  _ Now. _ ”

Zim looked like a chastised cat. “But—!”

“ _ Now _ , Zim.” Dib stood up and all but dragged him back through the restaurant, out the entrance and around the side.

“Stop pulling on me, Dib!!” Zim pleaded as he tripped and was nearly pulled off his feet. “What’s your  _ problem _ ?? I was  _ defending you _ !!”

Dib was looking everywhere but at his confused partner. Zim sounded hurt and Dib couldn’t deal with staring down that right now. 

“I don’t  _ need you  _ to defend me!” he said defensively.

Zim stomped his foot, desperately wishing his antennae weren’t under a wig and a hat so he could give them a good pull. Everything was loud and confusing. “Who if not me, Dib??” he asked desperately. “Who if not  _ me _ ??”

“ _ No one _ because I’m not twelve anymore!” Dib yelled back. “I can stand up for myself!” He tried to cross his arms, then realized it was impossible with Zim stuck to him. All this realization did was proceed to agitate him further. “Why are you even upset?? It’s not your problem!”

“It  _ is  _ my problem!!” Zim yelled back. “Because I care about you, stupid!!”  He glared at Dib for a moment, then huffed and sat on the brick wall bordering the restaurant garden, pulling his knees to his chest. “I know what it feels like to be disrespected. I don’t like watching it happen to you. Especially when you’re  _ right _ about things and I fucking  _ know it  _ even if everyone else is blind. I probably  _ could  _ give your dad the damn DNA test and he’d just be like—” Zim puffed out his chest and did his best impression of Membrane. “Oh ho ho! My  _ real science  _ has detected  _ quite _ the genetic defect in your DNA!! So defective, it’s changed your entire genome! Isn’t it  _ fascinating  _ what you can discover when your mind is so closed it could be air-tight at the bottom of the  _ fucking Mariana Trench?? _ ” He blew a raspberry and then fixed the concrete with an angry stare. 

Beside him, Dib sat down and stifled a laugh.

“What?” Zim asked, sullen. 

“Sorry … you just kind of fell off it a bit at the end, there …” 

“I know … I’m just angry. I don’t want him to stifle your passion, Dib.”

Dib cast him a worried glance. “And I don’t want him to  _ disown _ me,” he mumbled. “Hell, I don’t want him to ban me from seeing you because you’ve decided to pick a fight with him.” 

“I’d still find a way to see you,” Zim said softly. “But I’m not going to let him disrespect you, and he can die mad about it.”

Dib put his head on Zim’s shoulder and tilted it up to kiss under Zim’s chin, making him suddenly perk up.

“What was that for?” Zim asked, surprised. “You’re usually not all that … kissy.”

“I might’ve realized some things, being stuck to you …” Dib murmured.

“Oh?”

“I need to stop emotionally keeping you at arm’s length,” he said quietly. “You’re good to me. And good  _ for _ me. I … really like you. Having you close makes me feel better. I just … hope you've been feeling the same …”

Zim turned and swung his legs over Dib's. He sat himself in Dib’s lap, legs hanging off into the bushes and his one free hand on Dib's shoulder. For one terribly anxious second, he made eye contact. The amber street lights reflecting off Dib’s glasses thrummed through the humid July air. Cicadas buzzed in the treetops and crickets chirped in the grass below, almost drowning out the steady beat of Dib’s heart. Zim closed his eyes, leaned in, and hoped he was relatively on target.

Their lips met and Zim felt like his entire body was bursting with love. He pressed closer, wanting this moment to last just a little bit longer.

“Hey losers! Stop making out and get back inside before your food gets cold!”

By the time they’d opened their eyes, Gaz was already back inside.

Zim looked down, cheeks burning. Dib surprised him with a kiss between his eyes.

“To be honest, I’d rather just stay here and kiss you, but I’m starving so …” Dib sat up, hoisting Zim into the air as he did so.

“Whoa!! Who gave you permission to carry Zim??” Zim demanded, flailing.

Dib set him back down, trying not to drop him. “Jeez, I figured I’d be nice and spare you the walk.”

“I appreciate the sentiment but you know I don’t like attracting that much attention,” Zim said nervously. Maybe Dib’s assertion that he was essentially Zim’s service human wasn’t that far off. Other humans _did_ make him terribly anxious. 

They made their way back to the table, Dib visibly shrinking under his father’s gaze the closer they got. As they sat down, Dib attempted to come up with a sincere apology. Gaz kept shooting him disappointed looks, which only proved to fluster him further. It was  _ always _ his fault that the family dinners ended with things more contentious than they’d started off. He couldn’t even blame Zim … his dad had practically baited Zim into an argument from the start.

“I’m sorry for back-talking you.”

Dib turned, shocked to see Zim staring at the corner of the table occupied by his dad.

“I care a lot about Dib. I … can actually see a future with him in it, and I just want him to be happy.” Zim finally met Membrane’s eyes. “He’s smart.  _ Really  _ smart. But he’s at his best when he’s passionate about something.” Zim looked over at Dib and smiled. “In eighth grade, they made us do a report on folklore. Dib brought in a 200 page, properly-cited research paper that included his own research and evidence.”

“Got an A+ and some extra pity points,” Dib said softly. He rested his head against his hand and looked up nervously. “Dad … If I go to four more years of school for something you want, I’m gonna be miserable. You’re giving Membrane Labs to Gaz anyway—”

“Son, that was  _ supposed _ to be a birthday surprise,” Membrane interrupted, frustrated. 

_ Great.  _ Just another example of how he couldn’t do a damn thing right. 

“Sorry … Happy early birthday Gaz …” Dib said, shoulders hunched in embarrassment.

Gaz just rolled her eyes and turned away. 

“Look, what I’m saying is, we can compromise! I’ll do marine biology or zoology or astronomy … something with practical applications if my dreams fall through.” He looked up, eyes hopeful.

However, the silence that stretched on a bit too long in the wake of his peace offering all but shattered that tenuous, fragile hope.

“I’ll think about it, son,” Membrane said, sounding tired. He turned his attention back to his food, and Dib took that to mean the conversation was over.

That had been the best outcome Dib could hope for … but his dad’s best still kind of sucked.

Zim squeezed his hand and shifted closer. “I’ll trade you a fried yuca for one of your weird avocado sushi rolls.”

Dib was happy for the distraction, and they talked softly between themselves for the rest of dinner, planning summer ghost hunting excursions and discussing the best way to trap a Sasquatch. All the while, Zim had one leg over Dib’s and was basking in the closeness. He knew Gaz and Membrane were shooting irritated looks their way for not participating in the greater table banter, but Zim just ignored them and he hoped that Dib would as well.

By the time they had finished and headed back to the car, Dib was finally in better spirits, walking shoulder to shoulder with Zim. When they hopped in the back, Zim took the middle seat, leaning contentedly against him. He was knocked back down to earth, however, by the sound of the engine sputtering angrily before falling back into silence.

“That … wasn’t a good sound,” Dib said nervously as his dad stared at the dashboard.

“Ooh, Dib — hop out. I think I can actually fix this one!”

“It’s … kind of proprietary equipment, Zim!” Membrane called after them as they scurried out the door. “This is a prototype. I highly doubt you—”

“What’s the fuel in this thing? Hydrogen?” Zim yelled through the windshield. He slapped his palm on the hood and Membrane grudgingly popped it with an irritated “Yes”.

“Thought so!” Zim called around the hood as he propped it open. He turned to Dib with a smug grin. “Your technology is so  _ quaint _ .”

“Don’t tell Dad that … he might  _ literally _ murder you for your Voot schematics,” Dib whispered back worriedly. He tried not to think too hard about how every scientist who came up with competing ideas inevitably vanished. 

“Disrespect your father’s technology, Dib?” Zim said, feigning at being aghast. “I wouldn’t  _ dare. _ ” He leaned back around the hood. “See, the problem with these things is that they have to shut down if any static electricity builds up. Luckily, you just have to discharge it, and you’re back in business.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Membrane asked, leaning out the window.

“Oh yeah,” Zim replied, not looking up. “Except no one color coordinated the wires, and there are  _ a lot of them, _ so give me a minute. I think … that’ll be … this one!”

All Zim did was put his hand above the wire in question when an arc of electricity blasted both him and Dib backwards. Zim rolled head over heels for several feet before smacking into a tree. His head spun and it took him a moment to get his hands under him to steady himself. 

_ Wait.  _

His  _ hands _ ? Both of them?

He suddenly realized he was no longer tethered to Dib, and promptly began to do the most logical thing … and launch into a blind panic.

“Dib??” he yelled, standing up as his vision swam and the earth pitched sideways. “Oh fuck ...  _ Dib?? _ ”

“Ow … don’t yell, Zim …” Dib grumbled as he crawled out of a nearby bush. “Everything hurts …”

Zim barreled into him, landing on top and hugging him tightly. “Oh, my Dib!! You’re okay!!”

“Gently, Zim!! Jeez … yeah, I’m alive.” He hugged back, then suddenly came to the same realization Zim had been struck by only moments before. “Oh. Hey. We got un-stuck.”

“Lucky it happened by accident … if Gaz had suggested we stick a fork in an outlet, I definitely would have said no,” Zim remarked, reaching into Dib’s hoodie to pull out his glove. “This is staying on until I figure out how to un-stick from things  _ without  _ electrocuting myself.”

The sound of the engine suddenly turning on interrupted them.

“Are you two alright?” Membrane called from the car.

Dib looked at the car, where neither Gaz nor his dad had so much as stepped out to check on them. He wasn’t even sure he should be shocked at this point. He looked at Zim, who was attempting to smooth back Dib’s frizzled hair. His boyfriend had sprung to his aid immediately. That’s more than he could say for anyone else. Maybe that's all he needed. He put an arm around Zim and turned back towards the car.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Dib said. He wanted to be curt but he was too tired to drum up the energy for it. They climbed into the back of the car, Zim’s head on his shoulder, arms around each other. In the darkness, as the car trundled its way back home, Zim turned and kissed Dib’s neck, and whispered a soft, “I love you.” Dib pulled him close and hoped he understood that the feeling was mutual.

“I’ll drop you off at home, Zim.”

Membrane’s voice shook them both out of their reverie.

“Eh?” Zim looked at Dib. Was this normally how things went after dinner with your boyfriend’s family? Beside him, Dib stiffened, so Zim assumed it was not.

“I need your address. I’ll drop you off on our way home.”

It unfortunately didn't sound like something that was up for debate.

Zim reluctantly gave Membrane the address of one of the houses adjacent to the base and wrapped a protective arm around Dib, whose stomach dropped into his shoes. Instinctively, despite the fact that his dad rarely ever parented, Dib just knew he was going to get a talking to when they got home.

When they pulled up outside Zim’s house, Dib held out hope that his dad wasn’t as angry as he feared.

“Can I walk him up?” Dib asked quietly as he opened the door for Zim to hop out.

“I’m on a time crunch, Dib. You two can talk later,” he father said coldly. 

Dib hugged Zim tightly, then watched with a heavy heart as his protector slipped from the car, nervously checking over his shoulder as he walked away. The silence as they drove away was deafening.

When they arrived home, Dib jumped out of the car before it had come to a complete stop, rushed inside, and was nearly to his room when his dad called his name. He paused, wondering if he should just dash and lock his door.

"Yo, Dib!" Gaz yelled, sprinting up the steps. 

Dib turned from his door, radiating reluctance.  


"Dad wants to talk to you," she said. She gave him a nervous look and mouthed a hasty _good luck_ before disappearing into her room.

He slowly turned around and trudged back down, feeling like he was about to attend his own funeral. His dad was sitting at the kitchen table. 

“What’s up, dad?” he asked, mouth suddenly dry.

“Sit down, Dib,” Membrane said, rubbing his temples. “We need to talk about your behavior in public.”

Dib had been pulling the chair out, but he paused. “My … what?”

“Your behavior. Well … Yours  _ and  _ your friend’s.”

Dib narrowed his eyes. “My  _ boyfriend _ , dad.”

“My apologies," his father said dryly, "how could  _ anyone _ forget that with the way you were sitting on each other’s laps all night? It was really just  _ utterly inappropriate _ for the venue.”

Dib bit the inside of his cheek until it bled.

“Not to mention, all the yelling, the storming out … you know, you ruin these nights for your sister _every year_.”

Dib tried to keep his breathing even. What was that Anger Management trick? Breathe in red, out blue? 

…  _ I’m turning anger into peace … _

“She went to a venue that  _ you  _ wanted,  _ begged me _ to let you bring Zim along …”

_ Don’t get angry … find your center ... _

“And then you let him disrespect me in public like that?”

Unfortunately, at the center, there was _only_ anger. 

“What do you  _ expect _ , when you essentially baited him into having to defend me??” Dib asked, seething.

“I thought he might be able to talk some sense into you, since _I_ clearly can’t,” Membrane replied, jaw set.

“Oh, so you’re angry you can’t make him into your little pawn??”

“I didn’t say that—”

“ _ Yeah, you basically did! _ ” Dib exploded. “You’re just angry because he  _ defended _ me! You know,” Dib said, an insane laugh bubbling up from his throat as he shoved the chair back under the table. “I  _ never  _ stand up to you. I try and try to get you to understand, but you just  _ won’t! _ So just …  _ forget _ paying for my college! I’ll find my own way, and I’ll make my  _ own fucking name _ for myself! I don’t need your money or your clout or your … any of your support!”

When did he start crying?  _ That _ wasn’t very assertive of him.

He could barely see straight so he turned on his heel and marched out of the room, hoping his dad might tell him to stop, to come back ... _anything._ But he heard nothing apart from his own ragged breaths.  


He sprinted up to his room, locking the door behind him. He threw himself on his bed, hearing his father’s voice chiding him for his theatrics.

_ Is this how a sixteen-year-old should act? You’re almost seventeen, Dib; that much closer to being an adult. And you can’t even have a disagreement without crying over it? This is why you’ll never — _

_ “ _ Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up!!!” Dib sobbed, hands over his ears.

He hated feeling so helpless. It seemed like everything always went completely sideways for him, especially when his dad was involved. He’d just settled into feeling truly comfortable with Zim, and now he’d be lucky to ever see him between now and graduation. Why did  _ everything _ good have to get ripped from his hands?

The mattress shifted slightly and Dib jumped, ready to scurry off the bed. Through his haze of tears, he could make out Zim, sitting just under the window, hands up. 

“It’s okay … it’s just me,” Zim whispered.

“You caught me at …  _ hic! _ … kind of a b-bad time …” Dib said, breath hitching and body trembling.

Zim’s expression was soft, gaze full of pity. “I think I came at just the right time …” He made his way over to the pile of pillows Dib had in the corner and sat back. “Come here …”

Dib laid on top of him, trying his hardest to contain his tears, but the moment Zim started stroking his hair, Dib dissolved into a blubbering mess. At least someone cared about him.

“My poor boy,” Zim murmured from above him. “I heard everything … I’m so sorry.”

Zim must have sprinted for his ship the second the car left the cul-de-sac. If Dib wasn't so upset, he might have been impressed with Zim's commitment.

“I don’t know what I was thinking!!” Dib wailed into Zim’s shirt. “I can’t pay for college without his help!! I’m fucked!!”

“No … you’re Zim’s human now. I’ll take good care of you," Zim said, kissing the top of his head.

“Neither of us has a job, Zim,” Dib hiccuped morosely.

“I have ways, Dib. Consider college a done deal. For both of us, because I'm going to be right there beside you.”

Dib decided to just lose himself in the glorious sensation of being petted rather than attempt to figure out what illegal means of obtaining money Zim was complicit in. It was probably better that he didn’t know, in the long run.

“You can be whatever you want,” Zim said softly from above him. “Major in Ectobiology to piss off your father. I’ll support you no matter what.”

Dib relaxed against Zim, small sobs still shaking his body. At least Zim didn't make Dib feel like an idiot for breaking down. And Zim smelled nice. How did he always smell so good, even after spending most of the muggy July day outside? It wasn’t fair. 

Zim’s fingers combed through his hair, gently tugging, nails grazing his scalp. 

_ Wait a second. _

Dib looked up, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. “Are your gloves off??” he asked, confused.

“And my shoes!!” Zim replied, gleeful that Dib had finally noticed. “I was practicing on the window while you talked to your dad. Without the anxiety of being attached to another person, I finally figured out how to let go. I climbed all the way up without my PAK!” he said proudly.

Dib smiled, a little bewildered, then laid his head back down. Zero segue … that was so quintessentially Zim. 

“What a weird fucking day …” Dib mumbled, snuggling against Zim's chest. He could get used to the feeling of Zim's bare fingers against his skin.

A soft knock on the door made him jump, heart hammering in his chest as Zim held him close.

“Dib? It’s Gaz. Can I come in?”

“Day might be about to get weirder,” Zim mumbled. 

Dib sat up, uncertain. He didn’t want her blabbing about Zim being in his room at 11pm on a Tuesday. Then again, she really didn’t have a reason to do so.

“I understand if you’re mad at me … but I just wanna talk.”

Dib heaved himself up and went to open the door. Gaz looked a little shocked he had answered at all. Dib motioned for her to come inside.

“Zim’s here. Just … please don’t tell dad,” Dib said desperately as he shut the door.

“I’m not gonna. Don’t worry.”

Dib settled back on the bed, Zim behind him. Gaz stood in the middle of the room, looking awkward.

“You don’t have to just stand there … you can come up,” Dib said softly.

Gaz climbed up on the bed as well, curiously watching Zim’s hands.

“You finally got a handle on those things, huh?” she said. She held up a hand, palm facing him. “Can I …?”

Zim pressed his palm to hers and watched a smile spread across her face.

“That is  _ wild …  _ It feels just like my gecko!!”

Zim cocked his head to the side. “I thought there weren’t any pets here after GIR launched your p— uh, I mean, I thought your dad didn’t allow it.”

Gaz went to remove her hand and found it stuck. She raised her eyebrows at Zim. “Okay, it’s been fun, but you can let go now.”

Zim let her struggle for a moment longer, grinning, before finally removing his hand. 

“Geez, I can see how that was a problem, earlier,” she said, shaking her wrist. “But nah, I’ve got a bunch of reptiles. They’re just not allowed out of my room after one of the snakes got into the wiring and knocked out the electric fence for a day." She tilted her head skyward. "RIP in peace, Noodle.”

Dib chuckled softly. Zim had gone back to playing with his hair, and he let his eyes close, briefly zoning out.

“So, um …”

Dib opened one eye. Gaz looked almost reticent, shoulders hunched and eyes averted. 

“I feel like a dick for how I acted earlier,” she said, hands curled into fists resting against her legs. “I hate admitting I’m wrong, but I heard you and dad fighting and he really  _ did _ try to manipulate Zim. Then he got pissed off when Zim wouldn’t play along …” She pulled her knees to her chest, resting her head on top of them. “And things were going okay before that. I actually don’t hate having Zim around. Even if you two are a couple of weirdos …”

Zim shrugged. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“I also feel awful for not coming to check on either of you,” Gaz continued, looking steadily more and more morose. “Today I learned that, in a crisis, I freeze up. I just sat there, with my brain all blank, unable to move or do anything useful. But dad _didn't_ panic. That whole time, he just sat there looking irritated, and all he said was, ‘I told him it was proprietary.’” She ran her fingers through her hair, agitated. "can you fucking believe that??"

“ _ Pfft _ … yeah, sounds like dad,” Dib said, wildly unsurprised.

“It was shitty,” Gaz said. “Really … swapping inheritance of the company from you to me is shitty, too.”

Dib waved her off. “I don’t even  _ want _ it …”

“So he could have at least  _ asked you  _ before he decided!!” Gaz said, trying not to yell. She flipped back on the bed and covered her face with her arms. “I shouldn’t’ve made you come.”

“You were trying to be nice … you had no idea it would turn out like this,” Dib said sadly. “And I didn’t even thank you for convincing dad to let Zim tag along, or choosing a different place to eat …”

“It’s fine … I was mostly doing it for me,” Gaz admitted. “I just don’t get why it’s so much to ask to have a  _ normal _ family dinner.”

Dib had never heard his sister sound so distraught.

“I’ve got friends whose families eat dinner in the living room together and watch TV because they don’t  _ need  _ to talk at dinner … because they’re around each other all the time. We schedule  _ one _ dinner a year together and dad expects us to chat as if the last time we all saw each other in person at the same time _wasn’t_ 365 days ago!”

Dib mulled things over, picking at a stray thread on his sleeve. “If you  _ don’t _ hate hanging around me and Zim, we can always just … be a family without dad, you know,” he offered up softly. “I mean, fuck, we could do it right now. Is dad gone?”

Gaz nodded. “Yeah, he’s doing overnight stuff at the lab. Some volatile experiment. Could decimate everything in a mile radius.”

“So, the usual.  _ Yawn _ ,” Dib said. “The important part is, we have the house to ourselves and I’m pretty sure the freezer is still stocked with ice cream.”

“Family movie night?” Gaz asked, perking up a bit.

“Exactly. Well, family movie night, plus Zim.”

“Oh, don’t be rude,” Gaz said, giving Zim’s hand and pat. “Zim can be family, if he wants.”

Dib slid off the bed and held out a hand. “What do ya say, Zim? Wanna be part of family movie night?”

Zim took his hand and got to his feet as well. “Oh, fine. You can ply me with ice cream to get me to spend a little longer with you. It’s not like I also had volatile plans that could decimate everything in a mile radius, or anything.”

“You’d better not!” Dib said with a sidelong look as the three of them headed downstairs. “That would break the truce.” Dib took his hand and gave an exaggerated pout. “And my heart.”

“You idiot … I wouldn’t want to break either of those things.”

He held Dib’s hand tightly. He could let go any time he wanted, but he figured he would hold on for just a little while longer, yet. 

**Author's Note:**

> We're assuming the gloves don't stick because they're coated with Teflon. I didn't think //super// hard about this, okay?
> 
> The real Japan Latino was as baffling in real life as I’m sure it was in text, but damn if they didn’t have the best steak fried rice I’ve ever eaten. They are, unfortunately, now permanently closed.


End file.
